


fall, falling, fallen

by hazel_3017



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Friends With Benefits, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-25
Updated: 2016-11-25
Packaged: 2018-09-02 05:44:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8653111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazel_3017/pseuds/hazel_3017
Summary: Anonymous inquired: story where Sid got laid over the holidays and goOr what really jumpstarted Sidney Crosby the second half of the 2015-2016 season.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I originally posted this to the tumblr blog that was deleted. Someone reminded me about it today, so enjoy.
> 
> Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction.

It probably happened early on, before Sid left for Cole Harbour, even.  


Maybe even right after the homestand against Columbus, where Sid was scratched and Geno played like he was on _fire_ and Coach Sully got his first win. It stings, a little, that he didn’t get to be a part of that. That he didn’t get to be on the ice as they trounced the Jackets (and Dubinsky, the fucking ass), but had to watch from the press box instead, next to Duper and Tanger.

“Sucks, doesn’t it?” Duper says, his voice low enough that only Sid seated next to him hears.

It does suck. Sid would much rather be with his team on the ice than anywhere else. 

He hums his agreement, gives a brief nod as his eyes trace the way Geno dangles the puck in between two defencemen, firing off a shot that is ultimately blocked. He knows that Geno is annoyed it didn’t go through, can see his frustration even all the way from up in the press box, but Sidney feels frustration of a different kind. The kind that has his mouth drop open in appreciation at Geno’s filthy stick handling, his cheeks blooming a subtle red as his thoughts go to other places Geno could dominate. To _whom_ he could dominate.

Sid has not got laid since before the season began, right after Worlds, in Prague, when Geno was surly and sad after the 5-1 loss but never one to say no to sex. At least not with Sid, not ever.

They’re fuck buddies. They fuck when it’s convenient for them both, at the end or beginning of the season, never during. Not usually. Because Sid likes sex. He likes it a lot. He likes it fast and hard and to be stuffed so full of come and cock he feels it for days. He doesn’t get that during the season, would never sacrifice his fitness for a good lay, no matter how much he wants to sometimes (no matter how good Geno gives it to him, if he just asks, Geno will—)

But now they’re going on Christmas break after this game, and that means _days_ off the ice where Sid can feel the aches of a good fuck as much as he wants to without wincing through playing or coming up with excuses for why he can’t sit right.

He feels the idea take hold of him, fisting his hands in his lap as his team scores goal after goal. Sid’s arousal grows in sync with the show Geno is putting on for the whole of Consol.

_God_ , but he’s been playing so good. Sid is going to suck Geno’s cock as a reward.

The Pens win 5-2, and in the parking lot later, Sid catches Geno’s arm before he can open the door to his ridiculous Porsche.

“Don’t go out tonight,” he says. “Come back to mine.”

Geno’s eyes go dark and hooded. He surveys Sid’s face from beneath his long lashes, pausing on his mouth just a second too long. Sid shivers. “Yeah?” Geno rumbles, low.

Sid hums and presses closer. “Yeah,” he says, and lets his voice go the kind of breathy he knows Geno likes particularly well.

And because Geno likes sex as much as Sid, it seems like no time at all before they are back at Sid’s place, lips fused together in a wet, messy kiss as they stumble in through the door, shedding clothes as they make their way up the stairs to the master bedroom.

“You gonna be good for me?” Geno asks, and Sid nearly comes on the spot, it’s been so long.

He nods as he scrambles up on the bed, spreading his legs in invitation as he settles against the pillows, wrapping one hand around his cock and giving it a few strokes, flushing at the way Geno stares, wetting his lips in appreciation.

“Yes,” Geno says. “I think you’ll be very good.”

He’s slow as he makes his way onto the bed, and Sid whines impatiently before Geno settles in the open space of his spread thighs, gloriously naked as he grinds against Sid’s cock in a filthy, filthy glide.

Sid gasps. He throws his head back against the pillows, mouth moving soundlessly as he lets his hand fall away so Geno can take over, his whole body tingling in pleasure when Geno’s hand, so big, wraps around them both.

“So good, Sid,” Geno says. “So pretty like this.” He pauses his hold on them, removing his hand to lick a broad strip across his palm before he’s back to fisting their cocks and Sid almost dies with how good that feels. So much better than before.

He’s close, and he wants nothing more than to come, to release the tense knot of stress in his shoulders that is probably 60% hockey and 40% sexual frustration, but he’s not a teenager anymore, can’t come twice in one hour, and Sid desperately wants Geno inside of him when he does come.

“Geno,” he pants out, and they’ve done this so many times, Geno doesn’t need for him to tell him what he wants anymore.

Geno tuts at his impatience, but he’s moving up the bed a second later, rooting around Sid’s drawer where he knows there is a half-used bottle of lube.

“Make you feel so good,” he promises. He settles back in between Sid’s legs, fingers dripping with lube as they skirt past Sid’s cock and stops only briefly to press against his scrotum. And while Geno hides it better, he’s just as impatient. It doesn’t take him long before his fingers are tracing around the rim of Sid’s hole. He pushes the pad of his index finger against the opening, and Sid moans, lifting his hips up in search of more pressure.

Geno tuts at him again. “Glutton,” he says, and Sid would chirp him about how Geno doesn’t have that good of a vocabulary, that he probably doesn’t even know what the word means when suddenly Geno is pushing the finger inside. 

He’s done playing now.

One finger becomes two, then three, and soon Geno is fingering him like he’s spent his whole life doing nothing else; Sid is a mess of sweat and broken moans before him.

“Fuck me, fuck me,” he’s chanting, and Geno must be done teasing now, impatient himself, because he does as Sid asks, his cock huge and hard as he presses inside.

“Sid,” Geno says when he’s bottomed out. His voice is quiet, the kind of reverent that usually terrifies Sid—the kind that suggests this is more than just two buddies fucking sometimes, the kind Sid thinks is more like love.

“Geno, I—” Sid breaks off helplessly. He needs Geno so much, wants him just as bad, but he’s so, so scared that he’ll mess things up. What would become of them then?

“Hush,” Geno shushes him gently. “Got you. Give you what you need, Sid.” He moves steadily, pushing back and then fucking back in, hard and fast the way he knows Sid likes.

They’re too far gone for them to go at it for long, but Geno fucks him just the way he wants, the way he likes, and the way he needs.

Geno always does, because he loves Sid, and he has for some time.

Sid just hasn’t been ready for that. But he might be now. Soon.

“Geno, Geno, Geno,” Sid says, breathing out in sync with each thrust, and when he finally can’t take it anymore, when he comes with Geno inside of him and his own cock untouched, it’s with Geno’s name still on his tongue.

Geno groans as if in pain when Sid tightens around him, but he keeps going.

Sid feels boneless and sated, but he somehow finds the strength to lifts his arms and wrap them around Geno’s back, holding him close.

“Come on,” he whispers. “Come inside of me. I want to feel you. Geno.”

Geno comes. His head falls to rest against Sid’s as he shudders through his release.

Sid moans through the feeling of being filled to the brim, and tightens his hold on Geno, fingers digging into the flesh of his back.

They stay like that for a while, until Geno can’t hold up his own weight anymore and gently, carefully, pulls out of Sid, murmuring apology after apology when Sid can’t help but wince at the slide against his over-sensitive hole.

“It’s fine,” Sid tells him when he curls up next to him. “It’s a good hurt. I like it.”

Geno hums. “Good,” he says, and smiles.

Sid smiles back at him, helpless to do anything but. “I was going to blow you, you know. For playing so well tonight.”

“Was?” Geno demands, outraged. “Can still do!”

Sid laughs at that. “Yeah,” he says. “Later. We’ve got time.”

They’ve got time. It’s time. Finally.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] Fall, Falling, Fallen by Hazel_3017](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11147496) by [brightnail](https://archiveofourown.org/users/brightnail/pseuds/brightnail)




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